Picking Up the Pieces
by ellamoose
Summary: It was a long journey from the Hydra facility back to camp after Steve rescued Bucky and hundreds of fellow soldiers; long enough that Bucky and Steve have some time to talk and try to figure out how to pick up where they left off.


The 107th had been walking God only knew how long. After the Hydra facility had blown sky high, Steve and Bucky shuffled along the trail made by the others until they caught up. They were welcomed with fatigued smiles and pats on the back as Steve made is way through the group. Past the tank that rolled along at the pace of the men, past friends carrying one another, held together with bits of torn shirts and old bandages - they all made a pathway for Steve. Bucky tried to keep up and he was only a few steps behind his friend but it felt like a chasm stood between them. War was awful, he had seen nightmares come true right before his eyes; he'd prepared himself for war.

Ever since the Germans captured him and his fellow soldiers though, he'd seen and experienced things he'd never thought possible. And now Steve was part of that? Another thing that stood out from the normal ways of the world, another thing that just didn't make sense? He hated the thought. Bucky rolled his shoulders and forced his legs to catch up with Steve. After spending his whole life looking after the guy, having to look up at him to make eye contact felt so wrong that a lump formed in his throat.

_Is it permanent?_ Steve's quick and unconcerned answer rang in his ears. As he looked up at his friend, he tried to return his smile but exhaustion weighed on his body so heavily that it was difficult to even breath.

"Buck?" Steve's voice sounded muffled and distant.

His smile turned down into a worried frown, brows furrowing. Bucky could feel his enormous hand on his shoulder; staring at it, the weight of it felt like Steve's arm was going to push him straight down into the mud. Opening his mouth to say something, although no words came to mind besides the rank and numbers he repeated more times than he could ever count, Bucky felt his body shut down and a pair of hands grab him as his eyes closed.

...

Metallic clanking, the quiet conversations of men near him, and a heavy weight across his chest; Bucky woke with a roar as his arms thrashed and legs kicked. Somebody yelled his name, but he was completely consumed with the instinct to escape. His fists flew in every direction, trying to connect with something but he felt his arms quickly restrained. He was ready to keep fighting, down to his last breath, until the voice yelling his nickname made him stop.

"Bucky, please!" The voice sounded so desperate, "It's Steve!"

He froze. Arms still straining to reach out for anything.

"Steve?" He relaxed his limbs as the energy drained from his body. With his eyes finally open, he noticed trees rolling past above his head, crowds of soldiers walking below him. The way the whole world seemed to move while he lay still made no sense until he looked at himself: body laid out on the surface of the tank they took from Hydra, and a pair of arms wrapped around his torso to keep him still. Bucky looked up and made eye contact with Steve.

"Steve?" His eyes widened a little and a wave of relief rushed through his body as he realized escaping was now a reality. The comfort of his friend's presence made his eyes feel heavy again, ready to rest with Steve watching his back.

Steve let out a relieved sigh and loosened his grip on Bucky. He adjusted his body, scooting up the tank to give the other man more room. Bucky let himself lean his back against Steve's chest and shoulder as he felt Steve adjust his position sitting on the tank. The way Steve radiated strength, moving with purpose and helping Bucky sit up, pulled him back to the present. The same thoughts from before swirling in his exhausted mind: the pain from everything he survived, the fear, anger, and now the strange feeling of loss for his friend. He stared at the trees that rolled past. He kept his face turned in the hopes Steve wouldn't notice the look he knew was on his face; it would have betrayed everything to Steve.

"You okay, Buck?" Steve leaned to try to catch the eye of his friend, but Bucky looked the other way, eyes stinging and tongue between his teeth.

"Yep." He knew he wasn't fooling either of them, but the need to be strong, to keep fighting like they always had, was more important to him.

The weight of Steve leaning against his back forced him to lean forward a little. Neither man really knew how to adjust to Steve's new found strength or Bucky's lack there of. The weight was not unwelcome, it made him stay in the present. He pushed back a little and leaned against his friend as the tank rolled along the bumpy dirt road. Bucky sat in silence, waiting for Steve to say something first but it seemed Steve was waiting for him to do the same. This was new territory for them: it'd been the longest stretch of time they were separated since they were kids. So much had happened in that time, and they both had changed. Bucky wasn't sure where to start to pick up the pieces.

Without turning to face Steve, he asked, "Was it worth it?"

Steve let out a big sigh and looked down at his hands. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, trying to take in how tall and strong he looked; he hardly recognized the man sitting next to him.

"Yes." He saw the corners of Steve's mouth turn up a fraction. "The fact that I can breathe is enough, but to be strong really is an amazing thing: it's useful, I'm healthy. I can help people now."

Bucky nodded and said with a bitter smile, "Guess you proved yourself after all."

"It's not like that, Bucky. I did this to help. So I could make a difference. And it was pretty clear that wasn't going to happen while I was...the way I was."

"The way you were was just fine." Bucky didn't realize how harsh his voice must have been until he looked over and saw a hurt expression on his friend's face. He scrubbed his hands across his face and winced at how tired and sore his whole body felt.

"I'm sorry," he turned to sit shoulder to shoulder with Steve.

"It's okay." Steve smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder.

The pressure from it made Bucky panic, shaking it off and pushing Steve's hand away. He stared at his legs stretched out in front of him and breathed. He tried to imagine each breath going in and out like he to used to tell Steve, but they still came in gulps and his vision started to blur. Movement by his feet caught his attention as Steve leaned against the uneven surface of the tank on his knees in front of Bucky. Nothing made sense and everything sounded muffled but Bucky focused on Steve.

"Buck, come one. Just breathe."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He snapped back.

Steve leaned back, his hands holding onto the tank on either side of Bucky's legs.

"Sorry," Bucky mumbled.

"You don't need to keep saying that." Steve noticed the tired and pained expression on his face, "Jeez, Bucky. What happened?"

"Nothing." Bucky stared at his knees, Steve's eyes would melt his resolve; they shared everything, but this was too much. He took a few more deep breaths and looked up at Steve's worried face. Bucky forced a smile, "I'm fine."

Steve's features dipped, looking even less convinced and worry settling into the way he held his entire body. His eyes darted past Bucky and he stretched to reach behind his friend to take a canteen from another soldier. He paused when his Bucky flinched and tried to hide it by carding his hand through his hair. Steve sighed again and moved to sit next to Bucky.

"If you keep sighing like that, you're gonna pass out." Bucky looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see his reaction.

"I'm a super soldier with two good lungs now, I can sigh as much as I please." He bumped his shoulder against Bucky and they both let out a small chuckle. Steve offered the canteen of water at which Bucky wrinkled his nose.

"Got anything stronger?"

"I got something for ya right here, Bucky." Dum Dum, walking along side the tank, tossed a flask up to Bucky with an understanding smile. The flask almost slipped from Bucky's hand as he lifted it to his lips but it just made him drink quicker. The feeling of his fingers straining mixed with the warmth of the alcohol spreading through him from his throat to the rest of his body. He could have stayed like that forever, until Steve's worried expression caught his attention and he slowly lowered the flask. Dum Dum cleared his throat pointedly, even though he still wore that smile, and held up his hand for the drink. Bucky tossed the flask back with a grateful nod and mourned at the loss of the feel of it in his hands.

Steve's brow was as furrowed as Bucky had ever seen it and he hated it. The look aged Steve, made him almost unrecognizable combined with the full shape of his shape. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and smiled at his friend, stretching his arm around Steve's shoulders.

"Don't look so worried all the time, Steve. It doesn't suit you." Steve humphed but relaxed a little beneath Bucky's arm.

The drink from Dum Dum slowly kicked in, making Bucky feel a little more human; the alcohol masked some of the minor aches in his body and calmed his mind. He looked around them, marveling at the company of men all shuffling together back across enemy lines. Bucky knew this road like the back of his hand. He may have been captured what felt like ages ago but this dirty, tree-lined road was as clear in his mind as if he'd walked down it just yesterday. It was one of his favorite memories and anytime Hydra's scientists or soldiers questioned him, he would imagine walking down this road, escaping, going home.

"Come on," Bucky patted Steve on the back, "I wanna walk."

"Are you sure?"

He ignored him and gingerly slid down the side of the vehicle. The ground met his feet quicker and harder than he was prepared for and stumbled forward a few steps. Just as he imagined himself slamming into the ground, that strong pair of hands caught him again. He sighed as he felt his weight supported by Steve's arm and wormed his way out of his friend's grip.

"Thanks."

They walked together, squeezing between soldiers as they made way to the front of their group of battered but cheerful men. Walking in silence, they tried to find a stride that fit both of them comfortably. The base wasn't too much farther and Bucky could feel relief welling up in the men around him. He offered to take a gun from a particularly tired looking solider and gave him an encouraging clap in the shoulder. Steve frowned but said nothing as he watched Bucky pull the strap over his shoulder and settle his hands on the gun.

"What?" Bucky shrugged. The gun made him feel safer, stronger.

"You ready for this?" Steve stared at Bucky as they came in sight of the soldiers standing guard at the edge of the base. The men around them let out a few whoops and calls, celebrating their approach.

"Of course," Bucky squared his shoulders and smiled at his friend, "Somebody's gotta watch your back."


End file.
